Father and Son
by kawasai
Summary: Nathan’s first memory is of the hospital; that glass-walled conference room where he played on rare, sun-lit days when playgroup was closed and a nanny hadn’t been booked and he could spend all day with his dad.


Father and Son

Nathan House's memories of his father, and where they lead him.

Nathan's first memory is of the hospital; that glass-walled conference room where he played on rare, sun-lit days when playgroup was closed and a nanny hadn't been booked and he could spend all day with his dad.

He started school at the usual age and was pushed up a year, then two, because most kid his age didn't even know how to read, or what fractions were, or what to do if somebody had a heart attack. He worried his teachers with his interest in mechanics and medicine and detective novels, discussing Agatha Christie with an earnest seven-year-old enthusiasm.

His mother is kind, and stressed, and he loves her. He pushes his boundaries – of course he does, doesn't everybody? – and she laughs a little tiredly and says he's just like his father. He rolls his eyes at her and makes does an imitation of Dad, grumpy and sarcastic and making rude comments at the nurses – and she laughs properly and says he's nothing like his father at all, then asks him if Dad really uses language like that in front of an eight-year-old.

Nathan is ten when his father dies. He sits in the conference room and sees Dad's fellows, exhausted, and they glance at him and wonder what to tell him. In the end it's one of Dad's semi-friends, Dr Chase, who sits down with him and asks him quietly how much he understands about his father's illness. Nathan remembers spouting something about vicodin and liver failure and strain on the body because of the infarction, and two heart attacks to date, and Dr Chase sighs and asks him if he understands about death. "Of course I do, I'm not four!" Nathan says, and then his world flips upsidedown as he realises that what Dr Chase is trying to say is that Dad might die.

He bolts, straight for Dad's room, and asks him stright out. "Are you going to die?" With Dad, you say what you need to say, no dancing about the subject. Dad looks back and says, "We're all dying," and you lean against him and cry and he pats you on the back and tells you to grow up and his hands are shaking.

Nathan remembers his father's funeral. There was quite a turn-out, all people he knew and people his father had professed not to like before asking their opinion or inviting them round for poker. Dr Chase smiled at Nathan, one arm around a teary Dr Cameron, and Dr Foreman just nodded at him. Dr Kutner, having abandoned his diagnostic team for a rare few days, reached down and squeezed Nathan's hand. Thirteen turned up late and sat at the back of the room and then left early; Nathan doesn't think anyone else saw her.

Wilson, who Nathan occasionally called Uncle Jimmy (causing much hilarity) made a speech and couldn't finish it. He talked about how good Dad was at his job and how much he'd struggled through. Nathan wished his father could have struggled that little bit more.

Nathan's mother didn't speak. She just cried, and Nathan leaned against her and held her hands in his. She was tough, but she'd loved his dad, for all they'd never married and for all they'd never so much as shared a flat. They'd shared a life, somehow.

They moved Dad's piano into Mum's house, shuffling around the furniture to make it fit, and Nathan sat and played long, lonely chords and left them all unfinished, imperfect, because that was the way Dad had liked them.

After that, he pushed himself through school at double-speed, forcing himself to learn and understand with a reckless confidence he'd only half-had before. He graduated highschool at fifteen, top grades in everything, and dived into medical school with a will. People looked at him and asked him if he was his father's son, half-awed, and he grinned and told them yes, but he was here on his own merit. That made them laugh.

He worked himself half to death, alongside adults working equally hard, and that doctor's license was the best thing that ever happened to him. Then there was more work, and learning how to deal with patients – he wasn't much good at that to start with, but he took a leaf out of Wilson's book and turned on the charm and got along alright – and time went by.

The hospital was still the same after so many years, and even though there were new faces, there were familiar ones too. Dr Chase grinned and waved madly when Nathan walked in through the doors, and a couple of the nurses beamed over at him, and of course Wilson was waiting for him in the lobby.

They went up together and stood in silence, looking at the glass door to the conference room. It hadn't been used in years, but now…

"You know what he'd say?" Wilson said rhetorically. There was no need to specify who 'he' was. "He'd say they hired you because this way, they only had to change one word on the door, instead of two."


End file.
